


The What's and How's of Raising Wolves

by kit_cat



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Derek and Stiles are Mates, Kidfic, M/M, Mates, adorable children and their awkward parents, fluffy fluff, manipulative children, past child abduction/abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-22
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2017-12-20 23:54:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 16,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/893382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kit_cat/pseuds/kit_cat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is twenty-five and shares his bed with a five-year-old werewolf who calls him mommy. This isn't how he expected his life to turn out. </p><p>Or in which Derek is a kindergarten teacher, the Hales are alive, Danny is overly romantic for a five-year-old, and Stiles has somehow Magicked his way into being the legal guardian of three werelings all under the age of ten... and may or may not be on the run from a league of werewolf kidnapping hunters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Didn't Expect This (but wouldn't change it for the world)

It’s early morning when Stiles wakes up to forty pounds of six-year-old excitement jumping onto his chest and screeching loudly in his ear. Over the years he’s grown accustom to this form of gaining consciousness, having already learned not to throw the sudden weight off his chest the hard way- crying werewolves were a pain to calm down. He groans a little when the bundle of joy puts all of her weight on his bladder, which makes the little girl on top of him let out a high pitched laugh. He thinks maybe he should be worried about how the little devil finds amusement in his pain. He groans again and tries to pull the covers over his head, but she snatches them away with a laugh, her blond hair falling into his face.

“’tiles get up, get up,” she giggles, leaning forward to press their foreheads together, effectively melting his heart.

“Such a bossy little thing,” Stiles jokes, nuzzling his nose against hers in a fashion that makes a wide smile spread across her face, showing off her missing front tooth. “Why on Earth should I listen when you don’t even ask politely?”

“Get up,  _ please _ .”

“Now that sounds better.” He smiles. The girl lets out a peal of laughter as she quickly scrambles off his body, running across the motel room to launch herself onto the small body splayed out across the other bed.

“Boyd get up it’ morning!”

Stiles watches as the six-year-old sprawls herself across the older boy and laughs a little when the eight-year-old wraps his arms around the girl, cuddling her to his chest. It’s adorable and makes him want to punch a wall just to feel at least a little manly.

Of course, it’s at that moment that he feels a small tug on his nightshirt, and any manliness he has left is thrown out the window as he rolls over to come face to face with the sleepy boy currently pouting at him.

“I wan a hug,” Isaac whines, lifting his arms up a little. He doesn’t have to ask twice, and when Stiles opens his arms he quickly cuddles into his chest. “Mommy, I had a dream I was a fishy.”

“Oh really?” Stiles asks, pulling his fingers rhythmically through the boy's soft curls. He doesn’t even bother to mention the mommy thing, also having grown used to the child’s unawareness of gender.

Isaac nods quickly, his blue eyes widening.

“I was in the sea and it was shiny and the other fishies were really weird, because they’re supposed to sing like in The Little Mermaid, but they  _ weren’t _ ,” he says, sounding quite scandalized.

It’s the cutest thing in the world and Stiles really wants to coo, but Boyd would probably never let him live it down- the little traitor.

Of course, his thoughts are kindly interrupted when Erica decides that being awake just isn’t good enough for her, and that they all need to be out of bed before her need to jump on them is satisfied.

“Get up, get up, get up!” she exclaims pulling on Stiles arms with a strength no six-year-old should possess. Fucking werewolves. Stiles groans and rolls towards the young girl, whose devilish expression is just too much for him to handle so early in the morning.

“Stiles needs time,” he begins, pulling out a hand from underneath himself to poke the young girl in the stomach. “Stiles needs his time to get up in the mornings or Stiles will become the tickle monster,” he continues, taking in Erica’s scandalized expression. “You don’t want Stiles to become the tickle monster, now do you?”

“No!” She cries out, jumping away from him and onto the other bed. Boyd happily pulls her back against his chest.

“I got her,” Boyd says sleepily, cuddling his face into her thick blond hair.

“Thank you, Boyd,” Stiles yawns, pushing himself up into a sitting position. He stretches awkwardly, soft sighs escaping his lips as his muscles stretch.

When he finally gets a good look at the room he wishes he could just go back to sleep, because goddamnit he doesn’t have the energy to deal with this right now. The motel room looks like it has been attacked by mountain lions- pillows ripped to shreds, feathers everywhere, linens shredded, and claw marks etching wonderful patterns into the walls. It just goes to show that young werewolves, full moons, and motel rooms just don’t go to well together.

Stiles is deeply disappointed in himself that he didn’t expect this to be the end result of locking his three werelings in a motel room, but at least it’s better than letting them rip apart the interior of his jeep. This way, he was at least able to watch over them from the safety of the bathroom, being able to intervene every time things got just a little bit too wild for his liking. And sure, Erica might have left puncture marks on his upper thigh after her attempt to climb up his body, but at least none of them try to kill him on full moons anymore, instead acting like overexcited puppies in his presence rather than predators. Stiles still finds it amusing that even Boyd likes to curl up in his lap on full moons, growling at whatever sibling tried to take his place.

Still, the damage done to the room is something they really can’t afford to fix at the moment, their bank accounts running dangerously low.

But when it comes down to it, Stiles would rather work sixty hours a week than never get to see the look of pure joy that spreads across Erica’s face when Boyd begins to make a snow angel in a pile of former pillow feathers.

Erica smiles up at him, feathers in hand, before placing them haphazardly on his head, giggling madly when some fall into his eyes.

“Now you can be a princess,” she laughs, placing a similar pile of feathers onto her own head. “We can all be princesses!” she yells excitedly, moving to place a single feather on Isaac’s forehead. The boy looks startled for a moment, before he bursts into tears.

Isaac is quickly settled when Erica and Boyd, with the help of Stiles’ much larger arms, manage to collect as many feathers as possible to drop onto Isaac’s shaking body. He hiccups and sniffs as he takes in his now feather-covered body, a small teary-eyed smile spreading across his face. He looks up at them shyly, taking in Erica and Stiles’ feather crowns, as well as the random feathers that still litter Boyd’s body. Feather angels seem to do that to you.

“We are all princesses,” he sniffs.

Erica smiles wide at him, quickly jumping onto her younger brother, causing feathers to fly everywhere. Boyd chuckles softly before jumping into the pile of young werewolves and feathers as well, Isaac letting out a shrill screech when Boyd lands on top of them.

Stiles laughs softly as the three werewolves tumble around the bed, destroying even more items of motel value. Erica looks up suddenly at the sound of his laughter, an evil glint entering her eyes.

“ATTACK THE ‘TILES!” she screeches before launching herself at the unsuspecting human. Before he knows it, all three children are on top of him, throwing him off balance and laughing shrilly in his ear.

He falls with a crash, somehow managing to keep the three children from being crushed in a way only a parent could manage. The laughing continues and Stiles wonders what his life had been like if fate had followed a different course.

He wonders what would have happened if Scott hadn’t been bitten all those years ago, and what his life might be like if he hadn’t heard the distant sound of crying.

He wonders what the world could be if humans actually had more humanity than their werewolf counterparts, where hunters were never needed and children were never hurt.

Stiles is twenty-five years old and both the father and mother of three werewolves all under the age of ten.

This isn’t how he expected his life to turn out.

But to be honest, he wouldn’t change it for the world.


	2. The Past and the Present (aren't always what they seem)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Re-education of Adolescent Werewolves Project is not a summer camp.

When talking about dramatic, life-changing events, Stiles would probably have to list his top five to somehow explain the chaos that is his life.

Numero uno would be his birth, because it’s the event that started it all, is it not?

The next would be his first detention, a beautiful experience he got to share with his soon to be best friend/long lost brother Scott after he had heroically saved the young boy's life (really he had just punched a little shit in the face after said little shit had pushed said soon to be best friend/long lost brother into a patch of poison ivy. To this day they’re still not sure why Scott had also gotten into trouble).

The death of his mother was life-changing indeed, an event that had left Stiles feeling numb on the inside, a feeling that took years of Scott’s therapeutic hugs and smiles to finally begin to fade away.

Then there would have to be the morbid curiosity of sixteen-year-old boys that had led the two friends into the middle of the woods in search of a dead body. The search for a dead body had of course led to Scott getting bitten by a rabid alpha werewolf, one who later died from a painful wolfsbane bullet to the head. Scott, being an omega through and through (and luckily not a newly bitten  _ alpha _ ), was left in the hands of none other then Stiles. They figured their shit out eventually, emphasis on the eventually.

The final event Stiles would use to somehow sum up his life started in their junior year of college.

They’re walking back to their dorm room one night, tired after a long day of doing nothing, when Stiles hears a soft cry. He stumbles to a stop, straining to hear any more of the sad sound.

Scott stops a few feet in front of him, turning back to give Stiles a confused look.

“Dude, what’s wrong,” he asks, looking around quickly just in case he missed any obvious signs of danger.

“Can’t you hear that?” Stiles asks quickly, voice beginning to waver when the desperate cries become louder and louder.

“What are you talking about?”

“The crying, can’t you hear it?” Stiles says, frantically looking around for the source of the crying.

“I don’t hear anything, dude are you okay?” Scott asks, putting a hand on Stiles shoulder. The crying stops unexpectedly, leaving Stiles with a growing sense of dread.

“I’m fine,” he mumbles, ducking out of Scott’s grip. “It was probably nothing.”

As it turn out, nothing in their lives is truly that simple. He begins to hear the crying everywhere, begins dreaming about dark shadows and the sound of children screaming and wolves howling in pain.

One night a month into the disturbing anomaly, Stiles is awoken to the sound of screaming, shrill and pained. His head feels like it’s about to explode and he cries out in pain when the screams are joined by yelling.

_ “You worthless little shit,” _ a voice yells, increasing when the cries and screams become shriller.  _ “I should have killed you along with your bitch of a mother you little monster.” _

_ “He’s a baby Lahey, he can’t understand you,”  _ another voice, a female voice, cuts in, sounding amused.

_ “He’s still a monster.” _

_ “At least he’ll make a good guard dog someday,”  _ the female laughs, her voice cruel and cold.

Tears flow down Stiles cheeks as the screams and cries continue, a panic attack threatening to make its way to the surface. Slowly Stiles stumbles to his feet, body shaking and breath uneven.

Scott doesn’t notice him leave.

In fact Scott doesn’t even notice he’s gone until Stiles bursts into their dorm at five in the morning, bleeding heavily from three deep gashes in his side and clutching a small bundle tightly in his arms.

Stiles rescues nine-month-old Isaac Lahey in their junior year of college.

This is how they discover R.O.A.W.P, the Re-education of Adolescent Werewolves Project.

Life just isn’t quite the same after that.

* * *

The most well known fact about werewolves, whether it be in fiction or reality, was that every werewolf, female or male alike, had a predestined mate.

Now this didn’t mean you were destined to find your mate, on average only 73% of all werewolves actually succeed in this task, and only 40% of that found their mate before the age of thirty. It didn’t even mean that you couldn’t love outside of the mating bond, many wolves settling down happily with other non mated or human individuals.

The thing was that, especially in born wolves, if you didn’t find your mate, or even a suitable partner, by the age of twenty-five you were encouraged to begin a yearlong search for said mate/partner.

Derek Hale was twenty-one when Laura left for her search.

Derek is almost twenty-three when she returns on a cold winter's night, heavily pregnant and eyes glowing a harsh blue.

Laura has the baby less than a month later, a healthy little boy she names Daniel, Danny for short. She cries herself to sleep that night, holding her baby boy close to her chest and promising to protect him, promises not to fail him like she had his father.

They never get the full story out of her, only ever knowing that Laura had encountered a small pack in Butte, Montana, finding her mate in a young wolf by the name of Daniel Reyes.

Derek never left for his search; instead he stayed in Beacon Hills to help his sister raise her son.

Family was more important at the time.

But at this point in his life Derek is hopelessly single, speaks to children better than he does his own family, would rather cut his own arm off then have to engage in a conversation with a stranger, and is twenty-eight years old.

His mother desperately wants him to find his mate or at least a partner.

But in all honesty, Derek didn’t really want a mate. He had a great job that he loved, a job that would be starting up again in less than a week, a suitable apartment, and a loving, even if slightly overbearing family. He was happy. He was fine.

… He was fine.

* * *

Eight hours and six potty breaks after leaving the motel, they finally pull up to the somewhat shady looking apartment building, Erica’s head sticking out the window, Boyd carefully holding onto her incase she somehow was to manage to climb out.

Stiles wouldn’t really be surprised if one day she did.

Isaac on the other hand is fast asleep in the backseat, face squished into Stiles’ favorite red sweatshirt, something he’s taken up doing when he unable to sleep squished up to Stiles himself. It really does make Stiles wonder how Isaac is ever going to survive school when from the moment they found him he’s been attached to Stiles like a tick. It’s a problem that Stiles doesn’t really want to fix.

As soon as he had finished parking Erica was out of the car and running to the trunk so that she could get to the six boxes that currently held all their worldly possessions.

Boyd followed her soon after, easily opening the trunk for the smaller girl.

Stiles didn’t even flinch when Erica grabbed the box covered in glittery cat stickers and lifted it with little effort. She was a werewolf for crying out loud, she probably had a better handle on the box then Stiles would have.

“We’re home!” He hears Erica squeal. It warms his heart how accepting she is of change, how the little girl seemed to find the good in even the worst of circumstances. Like moving into a two-bedroom one-bathroom apartment; to her that means she gets to share a room with Boyd and Isaac, basically meaning everyday sleepovers. They don’t even have beds yet? Camping in the living room is way better then a mattress anyway. Turning into a creature of the night once a month and howling at the moon? What a great story to tell the grandkids.

“Home?” Isaac yawns quietly from the backseat, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

Stiles turns to smile at the boy, watching as he clutches the sweatshirt closer.

“Yeah buddy,” he murmurs, taking a quick look at the road map taped to the glove box, Beacon Hills circled in bright red pen along with forty-seven other towns all across the country. “We’re home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter wasn't exactly the happiest, but after this it gets much much better I promise.  
> also after this chapter the chapters will be much longer as well.  
> If you have any questions(?) you can go to my tumblr account (lowandco) and ask me there since I'll be more likely to see and respond to it :)


	3. Parenting (for the clueless)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You also put Isaac in the oven.” 
> 
> “What?” Boyd whines. “He was cold!”
> 
> “Boyd,” Stiles deadpans. “You turned the oven on.”

When Laura walks into the Hale family living room to the sight of her five-year-old pinning down her much larger brother, she can’t help the smile the spreads across her face.

“Oh no!” Derek cries out, ‘struggling’ against the little boys hold. “You got me!”

Danny smiles brightly down at his uncle from his position on top of his chest. It’s adorable on so many levels that it could probably melt the heart of even Satan himself.

“Whatever can I do?” Derek continues, a smirk slowly spreading across his face. “Maybe tickling my way out of danger is a good plan.”

Danny screeches and tries to jump off but Derek is faster, quickly grabbing the boy from behind and tickling him mercilessly. He screeches and tries to wiggle out of the older werewolves hold, but is trapped at every turn.

Laura, taking pity on her struggling son, steps out from behind the door.

“I’ll save you!” she proclaims, letting out a battle cry as she rushes in to save her son from the clutches of her horrible brother. In a matter of seconds she has her son safely in her arms and her brother pinned to the ground.

“No fair,” Derek whines, struggling against the stronger hold of his sister. Danny sticks out his tongue at the trapped werewolf, an act that Derek mimics childishly.

“Oh,” Laura laughs. “And you and Danny’s fight was much fairer I presume?”

Derek opens his mouth with a comeback, but shuts it almost immediately.

“Okay, fair point.”

Laura just laughs and gets off her brother, getting a better grip on her son.

“Hey Danny, can you run along to Peter for now? I have some things I need to talk to your uncle about okay?” she asks, setting her son down when he nods in understanding. She watches as the five-year-old scampers away before turning to her brother who is still splayed out on the ground.

"You'd make a good father, you know that right?"

"Not this again Laura," Derek sighs, hands running through his hair. 

"I'm just saying," Laura continues. "Maybe it's time you try to find your ma-"

"Laura, just stop." 

"I just want to see you happy Der-"

"Just stop," he murmurs. "Please just stop." 

* * *

“Okay guys,” Stiles exclaims, clapping his hands together in hopes to grab the attention of his three werelings. “We need going to be go over a few ground rules, okay?”

Erica whines and Boyd looks slightly insulted at the words.

“Why do we need ground rules?” Boyd asks, crossing his arms.

“Because last time I didn’t set ground rules you set the kitchen on fire.”

“That was one time.”

“You also put Isaac in the oven.”

“What?” Boyd whines. “He was cold!”

“Boyd,” Stiles deadpans. “You turned the oven _ on _ .”

Boyd looks a little sheepish at that, turning his head to look away from Stiles. With a sigh Stiles kneels down in front of the boy, hand squeezing his shoulder reassuringly.

“Hey,” he starts softly. “I was never upset with you, it’s just that I need you to know what’s going to happen okay? I need you to be responsible for your siblings. Can you do that for me?” Stiles asks, smiling when Boyd nods his head rapidly.

“I can be a leader.”

“You sure can.” Stiles laughs, standing up so that he can look down on his three bundles of joy. “Now, what are our rules?”

“No using the oven,” Boyd says quickly, moving to link his fingers with Erica’s.

“But the mico-wave is okay!” Erica exclaims happily. “I like the mico-wave.”

“I know you do sweetie.”

“No talking to strangers,” Boyd continues.

“No’ even when they have candy,” Isaac chips in, looking very proud of himself.

“No playing with the outlets.”

“Or fire!”

“Or knifes.”

“Or claws.”

“And finally?” Stiles asks, looking expectantly at the three children.

“Always wear the bracelet unless told otherwise,” they say in unison, Erica thrusting her free hand into the air.

“Mico-wave!”

“Maybe after we get all your back to school stuff. How does that sound?” Stiles asks, corralling the children through the front door and towards his old jeep.

“Can we put a gummy bear in the mico-wave when we get back?” Erica asks hopefully, looking up at Stiles with eyes that could melt even a serial murderer's heart.

Stiles stifles his urge to sigh, instead moving to ruffle the little girls hair.

“We’ll see.”

* * *

The thing about raising three children that were all under the age of ten is that they grow. Rapidly.

Stiles learned early on that buying two sizes too big clothing was the easiest way to insure that his children always had clothing that they were actually able fit into, ones that were big enough to hopefully last the next year or two, but not large enough to fall off their small, but growing, bodies.

But alas, clothing was expensive, especially ones of good quality. So as the years had gone on and their money had slowly but surely dwindled Stiles made a new best friend.

That new best friend was called the Thrift shop.

The clothing there was cheap, mostly only slightly used, and best of all cheap. It was just Stiles’ luck that the werelings were still at an age that fashion still meant nothing to them, meaning they were perfectly happy buying their clothing in bulk. If anything, Thrift shop trips were always an event that was looked forward to, because what kid wouldn’t want to convince their parents into buying them unnecessary toys, especially ones that only cost a quarter.  

Unfortunately it takes all of five minutes before Stiles loses track of a child. One minute he’s looking at a book Isaac had shoved in his face, and the next Erica is gone, probably having run off to find the stuffed animals. But where Erica goes Boyd will always follow, so seconds after he realizes the little girl is no longer in his sight, Boyd is running off as well, weaving between people and soon disappearing deeper into the building.

Isaac, seemingly unconcerned with the sudden disappearance of his siblings, continues to hold the book out towards Stiles, a big smile on his face.

“Can we ge’ the book mommy?” he asks innocently, poking Stiles lightly with the book. Stiles just rolls his eyes before sweeping the boy into his arms. Isaac lets out a startled laugh before throwing his small arms around Stiles’ neck.

“Sure buddy,” Stiles says, watching Isaac’s face light up with delight. “Now all we need to do is find your brother and sister, you think you could help me with that?”

“Like hide an seek?”

“Sure,” Stiles laughs before walking down the next aisle in search for his missing children.

Isaac, deciding that being held just isn’t enough for him, starts climbing out of Stiles hold and onto his back, trying desperately to get onto his shoulders. Stiles doesn’t even question it, quickly helping the child get into place. Isaac sits there happily, using Stiles’ hair as his very own horse reins.

A quiet laugh from behind them makes Stiles turn around in interest, catching a glimpse of an older women with dark hair and laugh lines that can only suggest she’s lived a happy live.

“You two are adorable,” She comments, looking over at them serenely. “How old is he?”

“I’m five!” Isaac exclaims, letting go of Stiles’ hair to hold up five fingers, three on his right hand and two on his left. It’s adorable, as is everything Isaac does, and it makes the woman's smile widen.

“And what’s your name sweetie?” She asks softly.

“I’m Isaac! And this is my mommy,” he replies happily, wrapping his arms around Stiles head in a hug like hold.

The women looks surprised for a moment, before looking over at Stiles with an amused curiosity.

“He doesn’t quite understand gender yet,” Stiles replies fondly, reaching up to run his fingers through Isaac’s hair. “I don’t really have the heart to correct him to be honest.”

The women smiles fondly at him, her green eyes full of kindness.

“That’s very sweet,” She says before quietly reaching out her hand. “I’m Talia.”

“I’m Stiles,” He replies, shaking her hand quickly.

“And Isaac!”

Talia chuckles at the exclamation, taking a small step back.

“Well it’s nice to meet both of you. I hope you enjoy your new life here in Beacon Hills.” And with that she turns around, beginning her walk to the front of the building.

It isn’t until they have returned home (having found Erica and Boyd in the stuffed animal section as expected) that Stiles realizes he had never actually told Talia that they were new in town. He shrugs the thought off quickly though, instead putting his attention into the three werelings currently throwing their belongings around in what seems to be some kind of war.

It was a small town after all, he shouldn’t be surprised that people had noticed their new residents.

* * *

It's the first day of school and Derek would be lying if he said he wasn't excited. 

He would also be lying if he said he disliked his job, because even though Laura had laughed until she cried when he first told her what he wanted to do with his life it hadn't deterred him whatsoever. And sure, looking back on it, he probably wouldn't have been voted as most likely to become a kindergarten teacher, but he loved his job and that's what counted. He also didn't hit Laura over the head when she mentioned the fact that his choice of career was probably because he found it easier to talk to children who usually made no sense at all then to talk with fully functioning adults, because that was besides the point. 

It probably also didn't hurt that his sister had pulled a few strings and had successfully placed her son in his class, stating that because of 'health' issues it would be best for Danny to be watched over by family, aka Derek. Of course those so-called health issues were just a precaution so that it would be easier for the pack to watch over Danny and his transition into normal, non-wolf society. The successful class switch had been a stress reliever on both Laura and Derek, who had hated the idea of leaving his only nephews education in the hands of someone else. 

This was only his third year of teaching though, and his first year having a class of over twenty kids, this year having to somehow handle twenty-four bundles of five-year-old joy. It wasn't that he was worried, just maybe a little anxious about having to deal with so many young children who had probably never spent more than a few hours away from their parents at a time, let alone almost a full day.

He felt, despite what some might think, that this would end up being a great year. He was ready for the unexpected; having grown up as a creature of the night had helped with that, ready to face any unforeseen complications head on. Nothing would catch him off guard this year, whether it be five-year-old jealousy, flirtatious parents, or even playground inflicted head injuries.

But like everything in Derek’s life, things didn’t go quite how he thought they would.

It just so happens that the one thing Derek hadn’t expected on his first day back to work was for Danny to suddenly go rigid, his eyes flashing a bright gold as his head snapped toward the classroom door. There, standing all-alone in the doorway, was a young boy with curly blond hair and blue eyes, too large clothes hanging loosely off his body. Before he could even think to stop Danny, his nephew is across the room, throwing himself at the smaller boy. The boy didn’t seem too upset at the other child that was suddenly clinging to his small frame, if anything he seemed pleased with the attention he was getting, a large smile spreading across his face as he returned the hug.

Derek truly hadn’t expected his five-year-old nephew to find what seemed to be his mate on his first day of kindergarten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I basically decided fuck it, I cant write super long chapters without getting writers block. Sorry for the long wait, I'll try to make sure the next chapter comes a hell of a lot faster then this one did.


	4. The Girl Who Screamed (but whispered words of kindness)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles doesn’t tell Boyd to look after his sibling, or to take out any kids stupid enough to hurt them, and most defiantly doesn’t cry when the bus drives away with his babies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I'd update this morning buuuut I lied.

Stiles has had Isaac for three months when he meets her.

It’s a Friday night and Stiles sits alone in the dorm he shares with Scott, holding the one-year-old in his arms. Isaac sleeps peacefully, nose pressed into Stiles’ collarbone, his small hand fisted in his shirt. They learned fairly quickly that Isaac refused to sleep unless he was surrounded by Stiles’ scent; Scott had been disappointed to know that he wasn’t a good enough replacement for when the young boys rescuer was gone.

Scott was out for the night, tracking down a werewolf that had tried to break into their dorm the day before. So Stiles sits alone on a Friday night, with a baby in his arms and an open computer with unfinished homework in front of him.

Stiles is about ready to call it a night and curl up with the not so small bundle of one-year-old joy, when he hears the sound of heels clicking against hardwood floor. He goes rigid as the sound draws closer, hugging the child closer to his chest.

He’s been jumpy ever since he’d found the boy, viewing every person as a threat until proven otherwise, every creak and shudder an evil trying to take Isaac away from him.

The sound moves onward, coming closer with every click of heels. Stiles stops breathing when the clicks come to a halt outside his door, the unmistakable sound of a doorknob slowly being opened makes his instincts roar to life. Slowly, and as silently as a person like Stiles can muster, he positions himself in front of Isaac, slipping a small blade out from under his bed.

The door is locked but with an audible click it opens.

The girl who strides through the door has red hair and eyes that seem to bore into Stiles’ soul. She’s beautiful, but the way she holds herself indicates she’ll never be the delicate girl people might mistake her for.

“Who are you?” Stiles growls out, hoping to deter the women before him. She looks him up and down, her mouth twisting in a judgmental scowl.

“I expected more to be honest,” She sneered, striding closer to the male. Stiles lashes out, swiping the blade in an outward movement that just barely misses the women.

“Don’t. You come one step closer and I swear I won’t miss,” He hisses, moving his body to better shield Isaac.

The woman stares at him for a moment in contemplation, her body now on the defensive. After what seems like hours to Stiles and his distressed mind she smiles.

“My name is Lydia,” She finally replies. “And you go by the name Stiles. The child you are currently trying to hide from my view is Isaac Lahey.” She continues, a smirk spreading across her face as a look of confusion spreads across Stiles’.

“Why are you here?” Stiles demands, eyes never leaving Lydia's.

“I’m here to help you.” 

"And you expect me to just, what? Trust you?" Stiles sneers, gripping the blade tighter in his hand. 

"Yes," She says. "I expect you to trust me. Because if you don't, you won't be the only one facing the consequences," She replies easily, glancing over at the sleeping one-year-old.

“I don’t need your help,” Stiles spits.

“Something tells me differently.”

“Why me?”

Lydia takes a step forward, watching Stiles carefully in case he were to lash out again.

"Like I said, I'm here to help you. But in exchange for my help you have to give me something in return," Lydia continues, taking another step closer when Stiles slowly lowers the blade. 

"What do you need from me?" Stiles questions suspiciously, tightening the grip on his blade instinctively. 

"You're going to help me find a little girl."

"That sounds like kidnapping to me."

"She's already been taken," Lydia explains, her eyes saddening. "I owe a debt to her family, this is just me repaying it." 

Stiles looks at her consciously before turning to glance at the child sleeping soundly behind him. 

"And you'll help us?" He asks, for the first time letting the hope leek into his voice. 

"I don't break my promises," Lydia replies, flipping her hair over her shoulder. " All you need to do is help me get the girl. Do we have a deal?" Lydia asks, holding her hand out to Stiles, who takes it slowly. 

"We have a deal," He agrees, shaking her hand. "Now who is it that I'm helping you retrieve?"

"Her name is Erica."

* * *

"ERICA!" Stiles bellows, watching in frustration as the girl laughs maniacally. 

"Look mommy I'm Spider-Man!" She giggles from where she currently has her claws and toes dug into the ceiling, hanging in a way that makes Stiles' stomach curl in terror. 

"Yes I can see that, but why don't you come back down here and walk like a normal little girl, instead of trying to give your mommy a heart attack," Stiles suggests, holding out his arms in preparation to catch the young girl if she happened to fall. "Hmm? How does that sound, because that sounds like a great idea to me."

"No," Erica giggles.

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No!"

"Please?" 

Erica seems to think about it for a moment, contemplating Stiles' plea. After about a minute she nods quickly, letting go of her hold on the ceiling suddenly. She lands in Stiles' arms, laughing hysterically when he stumbles under her unexpected weight. 

“I’m still Spider-Man,” Erica adds as Stiles places her gently on the floor.

“You’re also going to be late for school if you don’t get your butt in gear,” Stiles huffs, crossing his arms. “The bus will be here in ten minutes and you aren’t even dressed yet.”

“But I am dressed,” Erica whines.

“Your PJ’s don’t count.”

“They should,” Erica mutters, stomping away from Stiles with a huff. Stiles just rolls his eyes before looking over at his other two werelings who were eating their cereal happily, sitting on the sleeping bags they were currently using as beds.

“You guys all ready for school?”

Both boys nod quietly, Isaac swallowing his mouthful quickly before throwing his arms in the air.

“School!” Isaac exclaims, throwing his spoon across the room in the process.

“I don’t like school,” Boyd mutters darkly.

“Just wait until High School,” Stiles grumbles, picking up the now dirty spoon. “You’re going to have a blast.”

“Really?” Isaac asks happily, eyes brightening.

“Sure,” Stiles mutters sarcastically, ruffling the young boys hair.

Eight minutes later he’s sprinting out the door hand in hand with Erica, holding Isaac in his arms as Boy sprints ahead of them.

Stiles doesn’t tell Boyd to look after his sibling, or to take out any kids stupid enough to hurt them, and most defiantly doesn’t cry when the bus drives away with his babies.

* * *

Finding Erica is an event Stiles wishes he could forget. 

The abandoned building he finds himself in smells of putrid flesh, blood smearing the floor in a way that looks as if someone had been trying to crawl away from their attacker. 

Lydia stands beside him, eyes cold and hands clenched into fists. 

“They’re all dead,” Lydia mumbles, her body beginning to shack. With a broken sob she falls to her knees, letting out an ear splitting screech that resonates throughout the building. 

Stiles tries to comfort her, but she pushes him away, jumping to her feet and running out of the building. He wishes he could follow her, but he wants to understand what happened here, wants to see if there is anyone left to help.

He walks further into the building, breathing through his mouth in hopes that it will keep the putrid smell from affecting him. The first door he comes upon is bolted shut, leaving nothing but a small barred window in which to peer through. It only takes a single look before he jumps back, his breakfast coming back up, burning his throat.

Tears spring to his eyes, and he’s glad Lydia had gone back to the car, because he doesn’t think she would have been able to handle the image behind those doors. 

He sobs for the children that lay slaughtered behind metal doors, and for the bodies he is sure to find if he ventures any deeper.  

He sobs for the little girl that he had promised to save, a little girl whose body is somewhere within these walls, ripped limb from limb like all the others. 

It takes what seems like hours for him to finally calm down, finally gain control of his shuddering body and hiccupped breaths. He stands shakily, taking one last look at the bolted door, before turning to make his way out of the building. Lydia is waiting for him, and even though he would like to think she needs him in these horrible moments, he knows that he will be the one that needs the companionship. 

It’s whiles he’s walks towards the entrance when he hears it. 

A whimper. 

The single sound makes him break into a run, searching frantically for the cause, calling out to what he hopes is not just a figment of his imagination. 

Finally he comes upon a single door. It seems to be nothing more than an old supply closet, but the scratched doorframe tells him otherwise. Slowly he opens the door, terrified at what he might find inside. There, curled up in the corner, is a small girl, her wide blue eyes staring at him in terror, her body shaking uncontrollably. He slowly inches towards her, flinching when she shrinks back, her eyes flashing a vibrant gold at him. 

“Shhh it’s okay,” Stiles hushes, kneeling down to the girls level. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

The girl just whimpers brokenly, tears threatening to fall. She flinches when he extends his hand, staring at it suspiciously.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Stiles insists quietly.

He lets her make the first move, staying as still as possible when she leans forward to sniff the offered hand. It’s then, when her hair falls softly to the side, that he sees the collar. The skin around it is inflamed, blood trickling down here neck in one area.

Stiles knows he can’t move suddenly, so he waits in agony for the girl to move closer, eventually curling close to his side in search for heat. She’s still shivering madly when he reaches for her neck, letting out a distressed whimper when he unbuckles the collar, revealing the infected skin behind it.

“You’re okay now,” He murmurs, moving to wrap his jacket around her shaking form. Stiles only gets as far as unzipping it before she’s climbed in, cuddling into his chest. Her cold body makes him shiver, but he ignores it in order to re-zip his jacket around them, shifting the girl so that her head is resting in the crock of his neck. Carefully he picks her up, wrapping his arms around himself in a way that keeps the child from falling.

Without a single glance back, Stiles leaves what could only be compared to as hell, taking with him the lone survivor of humanity's cruelty.

It’s only until later, when Lydia bursts into tears does he realize he’s saved Erica.

* * *

“Mommy! Mommy!” Isaac exclaims, running into Stiles’ open arms. Erica is close behind, quickly launching herself at Stiles as well.

He groans dramatically as he stands up, a child in each arm.

“You guys are going to break my back one of these days, you know that right?” Stiles asks as the two children giggle hysterically against him. “You laugh now but just wait until I can’t pick you up anymore. You’ll have to walk everywhere on your own!”

“No Mommy no! I don’t want to walk!” Isaac cries, burying his head in Stiles shoulder. Stiles just laughs and holds his children closer, relieved to have them back from school unscathed. Boyd groans dramatically and Stiles snorts when he notices the three backpacks he’s currently holding.

“Did you really force your brother to carry all the backpacks?”

“No,” Isaac and Erica reply in unison, giggling to themselves. Boyd glares at them and Stiles rolls his eyes, setting the two down so that he can unlock the apartment door. They rush inside, jumping excitedly around the room.

“I have a bes’ friend!” Isaac exclaims excitedly, throwing himself at Erica who screeches.

“Don’t tackle your sister Isaac,” Stiles replied, pulling the boy off of a thrashing Erica.

“I have a bes’ friend!”

“That’s nice Isaac, why don’t you tell us about your best friend?”

“He’s really really  _ really  _ nice, he shared his Oreos with me and gives the bes’es’ hugs!” he explains excitedly, smiling widely up at Stiles. “His name is Danny and he is my bes’ friend.”

“That’s very sweet kiddo,” Stiles laughs, moving to kiss Isaac messily on the cheek. The boy lets out a disgusted whine, quickly whipping at his cheek. “Now I need to head to the store real quick because  _ somebody _ ,” Stiles glares at Erica quickly. “Decided that our food wanted to have a nice swim in the tub.”

“My PJ’s are real clothes!”

“I’ll remember that,” He mumbles, turning towards Boyd. “I trust you’ll make sure they don’t kill themselves.”

Boyd nods quickly, before giving Stiles a small hug.

“I’ll make sure they stay out of trouble.”

“Thank you Boyd,” Stiles replies before turning to the door. I quick tug on his shirt stops him in his tracks. Behind him Boyd looks sheepish, a small smile making it’s way to his face.

“Can you pick up chocolate chip cookies?” He asks quickly, looking hopefully up at Stiles.

“Of course I can Boyd.”

“Thank you.”

* * *

The nearest grocery store was a 30-minute walk from their new apartment, which wouldn’t be a problem if he didn’t have to make the trek back with enough food to feed three growing werelings. Sometimes Stiles wished life would give him a break, but since he’d never had the best of luck his phone rings just as he’s grabbing a cart, making him groan when he recognizes the ringtone as Lydia’s.

“I’m sorry, but the number you are trying to reach in currently unavailable, please leave a message after the-”

_ “Cut the crap Stilinski.” _

“Beep?” Stiles laughs nervously, hoping beyond hope to escape the red heads wrath.

_ “Where the hell are you?” _

“Disney land?”

_ “I swear to god you have three second to explain yourself or the consequences will be dire Stiles. Dire.” _

“We had to leave,” Stiles says quietly, walking into an empty aisle in hopes to keep the conversation hidden. “It wasn’t safe anymore.”

_ “And you didn’t even think to tell me, because?” _

“I didn’t have time. It was either get the hell out of dodge or risk becoming a chew toy,” He grimaces.

_ “I could have helped you.” _

“With what? Packing?”

_ “You know what I mean.” _

“Yeah, wouldn’t want you’re lovely nails to break now would we?” He asks sarcastically, waiting for the yelling to begin again. Instead he just hears a long sigh from the other end.

_ “You’re hopeless.” _

“I hate you.”

“ _ You love me.” _

“Despise.”

_ “Adore.” _

“Loath.”

_ “Revere.” _

“Remind me why I’m friends with you again?” Stiles questions, pinching the bridge of his nose.

_ “Because without me you and everyone you love would be dead.” _

Stiles laughs maniacally at that, letting his head fall back against the aisle shelving with a low thud.

“Do you ever wonder what life would be like if none of this shit happened?” He asks quietly, hearing only silence on the other end. “Would we be happier?”

_ “Shut up Stilinski.” _

Stiles just laughs, turning around so that he’s no longer leaning awkwardly into the shelving.

“You know you never seemed like the-“ He’s cut of with a groan as something crashes into him, sending him sprawled out on the floor. He lets out a pained grunt when the weight lands on top of him, causing him to scrunch his eyes shut. He winces when a few more things fall around him, one of them hitting him in the head.

When Stiles opens eyes his mouth falls open in surprise, a blush rising quickly to his cheeks. His eyes meet green ones and for a moment he’s left breathless at the color alone. The man on top of him freezes up, eyes widening, but he doesn’t get off of him; in fact Stiles is pretty sure he leans closer. Suddenly the man on top of him blushes furiously, looking around them in embarrassment. Stiles looks around him in confusion before realizing they’re surrounded by boxes of condoms. If Stiles had been beat red before he’s certainly a tomato now.

_ “Stiles? Stiles are you there?” _

No, no he is not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it? The next chapter will come out at some point in the relative future?


	5. Hot Piece of Ass (buying feminine hygiene products)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adventures in the condom aisle

In all honesty, Stiles would have loved the opportunity to be pressed into the ground by a hot piece of ass like the one currently pressed up against his body. In fact Stiles would have been completely fine with doing it right there on the stores positively filthy floors; they were surrounded by protection so really there was no risk of catching an STD from having sex with a stranger. No, the only thing keeping him from jumping (but really he had been the jumped in this case) the stranger currently eye fucking him was the fact that his three werelings, all of whom, he would like to remind himself, were under the age of ten and needed to be fed (as well as the fact that he didn’t want to even risk having them smell the stranger on him, having to give his babies the sex talk really wasn’t on his priority list at the moment).

“Could you maybe, oh I don’t know, get off of me?” Stiles asks, his face burning a bright red. The hot piece of ass stared at him dumbly, his eyes wide and wow was it just him or was it getting really hot in here because those eyes had to be staring into his soul- “Please?” Stiles squeaked, praying to every deity that this man didn’t notice his dilated eyes, didn’t hear the way his heart was currently tap-dancing away in his chest.

The man continued to just stare though, his green eyes never leaving his own brown, and breathing was becoming more and more difficult by the second because how was anyone supposed to function at normal capacity when a hot piece of ass was currently eye fucking you into the dirty grocery store floor.

“Derek.”

“What?” He squeaked.

“Derek. My name is Derek.”

“Hello Derek,” Stiles breathed out shakily, trying his hardest not to shiver as Derek’s breath ghosted against  his neck. “I’m Stiles.”

“Stiles.” Derek blinked. Stiles blinked back.

“Stiles.”

“Derek.”

“I’ve gathered,” Stiles replied, his eyes betraying him as he looked down at the lips that were oh so close to his own.

“Go on a date with me,” Derek rushed out, his eyes also flicking back and forth between his eyes and his lips. Was it just him or had they gotten even closer?

“Was that a question?” Stiles squeaked, and really his masculinity never failed to fail him.

Derek was back to eye fucking him.

“Will you go on a date with me.”

“I just met you?”

“Yes.”

“We are still in the condom aisle.”

“I was not buying condoms-”

“I never said you were-”

“I was buying pads.”

“Why would you be buying pads?”

“That’s my business, not yours.”

“In the last three minutes you have succeeded in jumping me in the condom aisle, knocking over said condoms, pressing me into the ground, giving me your name, then proceeded to ask me on a date and you’re telling me that your reason for buying pads is none of my business?”

“Yes.”

A awkward silence falls between them before Stiles pushes lightly at Derek’s chest.

“By any chance could you get off of me?”

Derek stares at the hands trying, and failing, to push him away in what seems like offence before slowly rolling off of Stiles. Derek gracefully gets to his feet, reaching out a hand to help pull Stiles off the ground. Once they’re both finally off the disease infested floors Derek continues to clutch onto Stiles hand in a sort of handshake that is really more of a vice grip than anything else.

“I need to go… shop,” Stiles says lamely, pointing to an aisle that he really hopes does not contain more condoms.

“Go date- I mean date go- date me.” Derek looks about as flustered as one could probably get, and Stiles is taken aback for a moment because this is really not what he expected when he woke up this morning.

“I don’t know you…” Stiles finishes awkwardly, watching is mild amusement as Derek’s face falls ever so slightly. “But,” He continues. “If we run into each other later- or again- I mean not here like in the condom aisle but like around here or- You know what ask again the next time we come across each other- no more running or jumping or unnecessary physical exertion.”

Derek just nods dumbly before slowly releasing Stiles hand. He takes a small step back, before quickly re-establishing an outer exterior that is much more serious than the nervous, awkward man that had just jumped him and asked him on a date.

“I will see you again Stiles.”

Derek gives him one last once over before turning the other way, picking up his basket of feminine products on the way. Stiles watches him leave, wide eyed and face still flushed a unnatural red. It takes a few seconds before Stiles collapses against the shelves, legs turning to jelly and mind racing. A small smile makes its way to his face as he turns to stare at the mess of boxes all around him. A startled laugh escapes him when he notices the lone box of pads settled among the scattered condoms.

It shouldn’t really surprise him that he ends up knocking more boxes over in his attempt to clean up, or that he buys the box of pads.

It also doesn’t really surprise him when halfway home he remembers that he forgot to buy Boyd’s cookies.

* * *

It takes all of Derek’s will not to collapse against the nearest vertical surface once he’s gotten out of Stiles sight.

Stiles.

Stiles.

Stiles.

Derek has the urge to slam his head into the nearest hard surface as well as howl for all to hear because he found his mate, he found his mate,  _ he  _ found  _ his  _ mate, and it may have been awkward but he can still hear the pattering sound of Stiles heartbeat can still smell his arousal can still see those beautiful eyes and his wolf is howling for joy and he wants nothing more than to join it.

Derek Hale has found his mate and his name is Stiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't kill me  
> I am sorry  
> don't kill me  
> I am sick  
> I also got into a car crash  
> I am also horrible with deadlines so from now on I am not going to say when the next chapter is coming out because if I do that basically 119% promises that it will come out two months after said promise, so no more promises.  
> sorry for shortness, I am coughing up a lung and got a review from today that made me feel guilty for not updating in forever and a half (everyone say thank you to the wonderful chacra for reminding me that this story exists...)  
> now have a nice holiday season I'll just be here coughing up a lung and preying to whatever deity that i don't cough up my heart and chunks of my stomachs lining as well.  
> also next chapter is from dereks eyes view point dear lord I need sleep or maybe death  
> (I also went back and did minor edits to the first chapters and will continue to do minor edits have a nice life)


	6. A Day in the Life (of our favorite neighborhood werewolf)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Can we keep him?” Danny asks happily. 
> 
> “Danny,” Derek starts, pinching the bridge of his nose. “People aren’t pets.” 
> 
> “He’s not people!” Danny huffs. “He’s mine!”

**Eight Hours before the condom aisle**

Three things were currently going through Derek’s mind as he watched his nephew squeeze the living daylights out of what was almost certainly his mate.

The first was that he needed Danny to stop whatever is was he was doing to the poor child, even if said child seemed perfectly content with Danny climbing him like a jungle jim.

The second was that of jealousy. How was it that his five-year-old nephew found his mate before he did? It was almost pathetic if he was being honest with himself.

The third and final thought that crossed through his coffee deprived brain was that it was to early in the school year for this shit.

“Danny,” Derek starts with a sigh. “Would you please release the boy?”

“No!” Danny growls, clutching the boy impossibly tighter. Derek is beginning to worry that he may be cutting of circulation, or even suffocate the small child, but for now the blue-eyed boy seemed fine.

“I’s okay ‘eacher, he can keep hugging me,” the boy chips in, petting Danny’s head lightly. “My mommy taught me how to give the bes’es hugs.” He proves his point by hugging Danny tight, even lifting the boy into the air with a strength no human five-year-old should posses. When he puts Danny down Danny returns the favor, walking clumsily over to Derek with the boy clutched to his chest, his feet dragging lightly on the floor. They’re both giggling madly and Derek is about ready to call Laura because how can this possibly be happening?

“Can we keep him?” Danny asks happily.

“Danny,” Derek starts, pinching the bridge of his nose. “People aren’t pets.”

“He’s not people!” Danny huffs. “He’s mine!”

“You don’t even know his name.” Danny opens his mouth to retaliate, but is interrupted by the boy still clutched to his chest.

“I’m Isaac!”

“He’s Isaac!” Danny repeats proudly, sticking his tongue out at Derek is retaliation.

“Danny-“

“If I’m Danny’s does tha’ mean Danny’s mine?” Isaac asks quietly, looking up at Derek with puppy eyes that could melt through solid concrete.

It was then, with Danny still clutching Isaac to his chest and Isaac setting fire to his hear, that the rest of his class began to filter in for their first ever day of school. He sighed in frustration before giving the two boys in front of him a hard look.

“If you’re Danny’s,” He muttered, watching the boys’ eyes begin to light up. “Then Danny is yours.”

The scream of excitement that followed made three kids cry and class hamster to flip shit.

What a great start to the school year.

* * *

Recess was a much-needed break for Derek. He found himself watching Danny and Isaac running out of his classroom hand in hand, making their way over to the jungle jim at record breaking speeds.

In the beginning, Derek had been worried that Danny would have a hard time integrating with human society, but now he wondered if his worries had any basis in reality.

In less than an hour, Isaac had brought Danny out of his shell, pushing him to interact with the other kids in the class and dragging him around in his attempt to make as many friends as possible. Sure, Danny might have attacked one boy for trying to claim Isaac as his best friend, but small steps were sure as hell better than no steps.

He continued to watch through his classroom window as a small blonde girl and a darker boy joined in on Isaac and Danny’s game, screeching in joy at whatever game they were playing.

In his distraction, he failed to notice the women slowly making her way to his side. When he finally noticed her, he turned his head slightly to come face to face with Allison Silver, a fellow coworker who had once taught the other kindergarten class. Now she was responsible for the third graders, a job that Derek would never want, even in exchange for all the money in the world.

“How are you Derek?” Allison asked, her eyes soft and friendly.

“I’m as good as anyone can be at the beginning of the school year,” He shrugged, watching as Allison giggled lightly beside him.

“Agreed.”

“How are your devils?”

“They aren’t devils Derek,” Allison replied with a roll off her eyes, elbowing Derek lightly when he laughed. “They are kind individuals who have just spent a summer away from school and just need to get back into the flow of things.”

“Devils more like it.”

“Oh shut up.”

They laughed together, turning to look back out the classroom window. Derek quickly spotted Danny and Isaac, who to his surprise were still playing with the other two children from before.

Allison, noticing the children he was staring curiously at smiled lightly.

“The older boy is Boyd,” She said, watching as Derek turned once again to stare at her. “He’s in my class this year, a very smart boy,” She smiled, turning to look back at the children. “The blonde girl must be Erica, Boyd was very excited to tell me about his little siblings.”

“Siblings?” Derek asked.

“Yes. It would be my guess that the boy playing with your nephew is Isaac, right?” Allison asked, smiling wider when Derek nodded in confirmation. “Boyd was telling me about his siblings, and how his father had told him to look after them on their first day of school.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah, Boyd’s a very sweet boy. He didn’t talk much about his parents; but the way he spoke about his siblings makes me think that they’re all adopted. Not that that’s a bad thing of course, just interesting.”

“Yeah,” Derek mumbled, watching as Isaac pulled Danny closer to the classroom, running at the sound of the recess bell. “You better get back to your room before your devils ransack it.” Allison just laughed, shoving him lightly before making her way to the door.

“I’ll see you later Derek.”

“Bye Allison.”

* * *

By the time Derek gets Danny home the young werewolf had already cried his eyes out and was so exhausted that his sobs came out as nothing more than small hiccups. Derek truly did feel bad for the poor boy, but that didn’t mean he was going to kidnap Isaac and take him home with them to make Danny happy.

Little Danny had not quite understood the concept that he would see Isaac tomorrow, and the day after that… and the day after that. No, no. Danny was convinced that his evil,  _ sadistic  _ uncle was tearing him away from his newly discovered mate and that he would never be able to see him again.

Isaac had dealt with the separation much better then Danny did, telling Derek that he was the ‘bes’ ‘eacher ever’ and that he couldn’t wait to see him and Danny again tomorrow.

That of course hadn’t helped Derek one bit since he still had to deal with an inconsolable five-year-old who was now convinced the world would no longer spin on without the newest addition to his life.

Derek was just hoping that Laura would be able to calm her son down, and that said son would forgive him for separating him from his newest friend.

After an hour of crying, hauling, biting, and scratching, Derek finally was able to drag the monster that was his nephew through the front door, only to be confronted by a furious Laura.

“What the hell did you do?” She growled, her eyes flashing blue as she snatched up her sobbing child.

“I did nothing,” Derek replied, putting his hands up to surrender to the wrath that was his older sister.

“Derek is mean!” Danny shrieked, his tears starting anew. “Derek hates me!”

“How the hell is this nothing?” Laura hissed.

“Be calm Laura.” Laura turned to snarl at the newcomer but stopped when her mother entered the room, her eyes growing red. Talia turned to place her questioning gaze on her son.

“Explain.”

“Today Danny met Isaac,” Derek started, stopping when Danny let out another pained sob. “Isaac is Danny’s mate. Danny was not happy when Isaac had to go home and is now convinced that he will never see Isaac ever again. That is pretty much it.”

“Danny found his mate?” Talia asked in surprise, her eyes widening and returning to their normal hazel.

Derek just nodded, watching as his sister stared in amazement at her still sobbing son.

“Danny, sweetie, don’t cry, it’s okay sweetie,” Laura cooed, running her fingers soothingly through Danny’s hair. “Isaac isn’t gone baby, you’ll see him tomorrow at school I promise.”

“Really?” Danny whimpered, his eyes red and blotchy from crying.

“Really,” Laura promised, kissing her child quickly on the nose. Danny let out a small hiccup of a giggle, wrapping his arms around his mother's neck as she carried him out into the living room.

Talia, who had been watching her daughter calm Danny, turned to Derek with a soft expression.

“Can I ask a favor of you Derek?”

“Of course,” Derek replied quickly, leaning slightly into his mother.

“I need you to go to the store to pick up some things for your sisters.”

* * *

Derek was a good brother.

Derek was a  _ great  _ brother.

Derek was a brother who bought his sisters pads and looked proud doing so.

Derek, however, was not exactly a people person. To be honest he wasn’t even much of a wolf person either, but that’s besides the point.

So when Derek literally jumped his mate in the condom aisle and proceeded to embarrass himself in front of said mate? Lets just say that when he came come from the supermarket he threw a tampon box at Uncle Peter’s head in frustration and then proceeded to shove his face into a pillow.

“Ok, spill,” Cora says, plopping down on the armrest of the couch Derek was currently splayed across. Derek grunts unintelligently, swatting Laura’s hand away when his older sister joins her younger sister.

“Oh come on Derek,” Laura laughs. “You’re acting like a baby.”

“I’m not a baby,” Derek pouts, moving his head to the side so he can glare at his sisters.

“Yeah, try telling me that again without a pout and maybe then I’ll believe you.”

“You guys suck,” Derek groans, turning to smother his face in the couch pillow once more.

“Oh come on Derek!” Cora whines. “You know you can tell us anything!”

Derek just glares at his sister's in response, before sighing in defeat, a small smile making it’s way to his face.

“Danny’s not the only one who found his mate today.”

The excited scream that follows may or may not scare away every wild animal in a 5-mile radius.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry.  
> I have no excuses, I'm just very sorry.  
> I hope you enjoyed the chapter at least.  
> Also if any of you want to actually talk to me, I would be happy to talk to anyone since I love talking to people!  
> anyway thank you reading and I am so so SO sorry.  
> Also I am going to start asking now (even if this story till has a while left to go until it ends at its ending point) whether you guys would like a sequel when this story does finally come to an end. I know exactly where this story is going, and what I could do for a sequel, but I don't want to put in all the work for the sequel if you guys think the one story is enough.  
> Anyway, thank you for reading and since I'm OCD the next chapter will probably be 4000 words since it will be chapter seven and I would like it to at least look like each chapter is 2000 words ahahahah.


	7. Building a Family (a patchwork project for beginners)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was at that moment, with Isaac staring into his soul and Danny chewing on a book in the background, that Derek realized he was not prepared for this school year.

When Scott had been bitten at the not so tender age of sixteen, Stiles’ life had been turned upside down. When once he only had to deal with homework and his inability to get a date, now he had to deal with creatures of the night and outings into the forest that weren’t exactly what you would call legal.

Stiles becoming a parent, on the other hand, had sent his life off on a rollercoaster traveling at the speed of light, throwing complication after complication after fucking complication his way.

First there was having to learn how to take care of a baby, not to mention the fact that the baby he was raising was a creature of the night.

Then there was dealing with the consequences of raising a werewolf baby. To put it simply it was like putting a spotlight on your already florescent location, showing off your fragile mortality for all to see.

Throw in another werewolf child and a Banshee just for shits and giggles, and Stiles’ not so simple life was turned into a blockbuster thriller (or horror film, it really depended on the day).

Luckily Stiles had a single unwavering constant in his life.

Scott.

Sweet, selfless, wonderful Scott; the best friend to end all friends.

Scott who had been there through thick and through thin, who had fought tooth and nail to protect Stiles’ babies (and they were truly his babies, blood be damned), who would jump through fire if it meant they would have a better life.

It was Scott in the end, who had led them to Boyd. Like all of their werelings, the circumstances of his impromptu adoption had been less than fortunate.

It all started when Erica had been taken a year and a half after her original rescue.

To say Stiles had flipped shit would be the understatement of the century.

It took three panic attacks before Stiles finally cried himself to sleep that first night. Even then he only managed to sleep through the night because he had Isaac clutched to his chest and his head resting in Lydia’s lap.

While Lydia was left to look over a grief stricken Stiles, Scott was tracking down Erica’s ever fading trail, refusing to sleep until he found the little girl.

After four days of desperate searching, and sleepless nights for everyone involved, Scott was finally able to locate where the hunters had taken Erica. Like they had assumed, the hunters who had taken Erica were apart of the same organization as the ones who had originally taken her and Isaac.

Fearing the worst, all three of them, one werewolf, one banshee, and one human, went in with guns loaded, ready to revenge the young girl if need be.

Stiles had never killed anyone until Erica was taken away from him. Even when he had rescued Isaac he hadn’t so much as broken a bone.

It should be said that a parent would do anything for their child, even if it meant shooting down six hunters who were standing in-between said parent and child.

It took nearly an hour before Stiles was finally able to get to storage that his daughter was being held in. The last obstacle standing in the way between him and his child was a door that he kicked down without thought.

No one could blame him when he burst into tears at the sight of his little girl, alive and calling out his name.

In the back of the room was four cages, each one holding a single child. Without even waiting to see if Lydia or Scott had caught up with him, Stiles ran straight into the room towards his daughter, dropping his weapons in the process.

It was then, as he ran towards the frightened girl, that he noticed the slumped body lying beside her in the cage.

“Mommy!” Erica sobbed, her small hand reaching through the cage bars. “Mommy, Boyd won’t wake up!”

“It’s okay sweetie,” Stiles reassured, lacing his fingers with her smaller ones. “You and Boyd are going to be just fine.”

“You promise?” She whimpered, her bottom lip trembling in her effort to hold back her sobs.

“I promise.”

As quickly as he could, Stiles began to pick the lock of the cage, turning away only to calm his shaking child. Just as he was finished, Erica let out a high-pitched scream, one filled with utter terror and pain.

That was the only warning he had before he was thrown across the room, hitting the opposite wall with a loud crack.

“Mommy!” Erica screamed, her sobs coming back at full force as the werewolf that had thrown her precious Stiles began to circle the bleeding human.

The werewolf was the same one that had left the two long scars down Stiles side, an injury he had acquired when he had rescued Isaac. The werewolf growled lowly at Stiles, his eyes glowing a harsh blue in comparison with Erica’s gold.

“Well, well, well,” a menacing voice said from the doorway, a horrible smirk spreading across the woman's face. “If it isn’t my friend Stiles.”

“Kate,” Stiles hissed. He tried his best to push himself off the floor but let out a sharp yelp when the werewolf only kicked him back down. Erica sobbed harder in response, dragging herself to the back of her cage in fear.

“Oh sweetie,” Kate pouted, taking a few steps into the room. “I really expected more from you.”

“Fuck you,” Stiles spat, watching as the women picked up his fallen weapons.

“I see you’ve met Matt,” Kate continued, running her fingers harshly through the werewolf’s hair, making him purr and lean closer to her. “He’s our greatest success and as you can see,” She smirked, an evil look gleaming in her eyes. “I can get him to rip you to shreds with a simple snap of my fingers. Would you like me to demonstrate?” She asked sweetly bringing her hand up slowly, her smirk growing wider when Stiles’ eyes widened in fear.

It was only when he heard the snap resonate through the room that he noticed that Erica had stopped screaming. It was also then that he realized Boyd had woken up.

With a vicious snarl, the small child burst through the unlocked cage door, throwing himself on Matt and biting harshly into his neck. The older werewolf let out a pained screech, trying his best to claw the child off him. But Boyd, spurred on by his own pain and furry, continued to rip into the older werewolf, giving Stiles just enough time to throw himself at Kate, landing a very satisfying punch to her perfect face.

Just as Matt was able to get the pup off of him, slicing into the small boys flesh, a blood-chilling howl resonated throughout the building. Stiles, recognizing the howl as Scott’s, smirked victoriously at a suddenly frightened Kate.

“Your move bitch.”

Kate just scowled, letting out a high-pitched whistle that had Matt running out the door in a second.

“You win this round brat,” She hissed, quickly turning on her heel to run after the werewolf, leaving a bloody Stiles alone with five pups.

Boyd, who was panting harshly off to the side, began to laugh hysterically as Erica crawled her way over to his side. Soon his laughs became sobs, and Stiles watched as his little girl held the boy in her arms, shushing his cries like he had down for her.

It would only be later, once Scott and Stiles were able to release the three other pups from their cages, that they realized the pups belonged to the most powerful pack on the east coast. It was then, after they had returned the pups to their grateful pack that Scott was given a job opportunity.

With pups being taken from packs all over the country, and Stiles and Scott being the only ones who had been able to successfully uncover the hunters operations, Scott quickly became the person to call when a pup went missing.

The packs they helped paid them well and were always incredibly grateful for their help in the retrieval of their children, but soon the missions became too much for Stiles and his weaker human body. And soon, as time went on and on, Scott began taking more and more jobs by himself until Stiles was no longer a part of the missions.

Scott, always the selfless one, took job after job in hopes that he would be able to finally provide their patchwork family with enough money to not only survive, but thrive. After that, Scott was home less and less, leaving Stiles and Lydia to care for their breaking family.

Stiles’ constant was gone, and there was nothing he could do about it.

* * *

Two weeks into the school year and Isaac has Derek baffled.

Isaac acts like a normal five-year-old, talks like a normal five-year-old, and even thinks like a normal five-year-old.

Yet whenever Isaac is near, Derek can’t help but feel like the boy is his. It’s frustrating as hell, but no matter what he does Derek can’t convince his wolf that Isaac isn’t his pup. The curly-haired boy had triggered some paternal instinct within Derek, and it was starting to become a problem.

Just the other day, during snack time, another boy had stolen Isaac’s goldfish, pushing him to the ground in the process. Danny’s reaction had been expected, the young boy jumping on the attacker, his eyes flashing gold for just a moment. Derek on the other hand, was surprised when his wolf was suddenly clawing at his control, his anchor wavering as Isaac broke into tears.

In the end both Danny and the other boy had been put in time out, though Derek may or may not have been let Danny out of the time out corner five minutes early. It wasn’t that Derek was picking favorites; it was just that Danny had proved that he had learned his lesson, giving Isaac the rest of his own snack. Derek had been very proud.

When Derek had gone to talk to his mother about the incident, she had been just as baffled.

“Maybe it’s just your wolf reacting to the fact that Isaac is Danny’s mate. They’re so young after all, your wolf might be confusing Isaac as another one of our pack's pups.”

“It’s not like that though,” Derek had argued. “It feels as if he’s my own flesh and blood, like he is mine to protect and care for.”

“I don’t know what to tell you Derek,” Talia had sighed, placing a comforting had on her sons shoulder. “Even if we find the answer it won’t change how you feel.”

“I just want to understand what makes him different.”

“Maybe we’re not meant to know.”

Derek ended up walking away from the conversation more confused than when he entered it.  He would have expected this outcome had he been talking to Deaton, but he found that his mother was usually much clearer in her words of wisdom.

The fact that Isaac came up to him the next day didn’t help the issue one bit.

The boy, his big blue eyes looking up into his pleadingly, had developed sort of a hero worship of his first, and apparently favorite, teacher. Even with that knowledge, Derek wasn’t expecting what came out of the five-year-old's mouth.

“You should marry my mommy ‘eacher. Then you would be my daddy and always be my ‘eacher but better since then you would be my daddy as well.”

It was at that moment, with Isaac staring into his soul and Danny chewing on a book in the background, that Derek realized he was not at all prepared for this school year.

* * *

Boyd was almost six at the time of his rescue, old enough to remember his family and the horrors he had experienced under the care of the hunters. He was also old enough to understand that Stiles would never, and could never, replace the parents that had been taken from him.

The first few weeks were rough to say the least, but slowly Boyd had begun to settle into his new home with Stiles, Scott, Lydia, and the other pups. It didn’t take long for them to realize that he and Erica were mates, Boyd at times growling at anyone who dared to go near his Erica. Luckily they had been able to convince him that both he and Erica were safe, a concept that the small boy hadn’t experienced in years.

It was a year after Boyd had fallen into his care when Stiles was awoken in the middle of the night to a small body climbing into bed next to him. This was a common occurrence in the Stilinski-McCall household, what with Isaac still barely sleeping through the night and Erica awakening from night terrors that continued to plague her since her last abduction. When Stiles moved to lift the covers for whatever little wereling had needed reassurance that night, he was surprised when he was faced with a serious looking Boyd.

“Boyd?” He asked in confusion, moving over to make room for the now seven-year-old boy.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Boyd murmured, looking anywhere but at Stiles. The two stayed in silence for a long moment before Boyd opened his mouth to say something, but stopped, giving Stiles a questioning look.

“You,” He started, worrying his lip between his teeth. “You’re not my dad. You won’t ever be my dad.”

“I know Boyd,” Stiles murmured, giving the young boy a somewhat forced smile. “I know I’ll never be the parent you deserve.”

“That’s not what I mean,” Boyd interrupted, staring intently at the older man next to him. “It’s just- you’ll never be my dad, or my mom,” He added quickly. “But that doesn’t mean you aren’t-” the word died on his lips, his eyes staring into Stiles pleadingly.

“Boyd?”

“I don’t want you to replace them,” The boy whispered, tears beginning to fall from his wide eyes. “But I want a family again. Please,” He whimpered. “Please be my family.”

And with that final confession Boyd broke down into tears, letting the sobs rock through his body and doing nothing to try to hide them.

Stiles, having already learned to deal with his other children, quickly wrapped his arms around his newest pup, pulling him close and letting the poor boy sob into his shoulder. He let the boy cry as he rubbed soothingly at his back, murmuring words of reassurance into his ear.

“It’s okay Boyd,” He murmured, smiling ever so softly when the boy pulled himself closer to his body. “You’re not alone, I promise you will never be alone again.”

“How can you be sure?” Boyd sobbed, his nails beginning to sharpen and his eyes glowing gold. “Even you can’t promise that they won’t come back for me! For any of us!”

“No, I can’t promise that,” Stiles said sadly. “But I can promise to fight for you, and do my best to give you the life you all deserve. That’s what I can promise.”

Boyd just nodded shakily against his chest, sobs still raking their way through his body. Stiles stayed there with Boyd curled up to his chest until the early hours of the morning, shushing and murmuring words of comfort when the young boy hiccupped up his sobs every so often.

Sometime before dawn Isaac crawls into bed, mumbling something about peaches and unfriendly cows, curling himself up on Stiles’ other side. It didn’t take long for Erica to follow, her hair wild from sleep. She quickly found her place between Stiles and Boyd, her head resting comfortably on Boyd’s shoulder.

Stiles yawned widely as the sun began to rise, smiling happily at the three children who had clawed their way into his life.

Maybe it was just exhaustion, but he could have sworn that as he was drifting back off to sleep he heard a small thank you murmured into his shoulder.

* * *

Derek was beginning to notice a disturbing pattern start to form between Isaac and Danny.

At first he found Danny’s attempts of sneaking Isaac home with them sort of cute. At times it was even downright amusing to see what crazy ideas the two had come up with.

First they had tried to fit Isaac into Danny’s backpack.

Danny had needed a new backpack.

Next there had been the attempt to hide Isaac in Derek’s bag.

Derek had also needed a new bag.

After that the boys had tried a different approach.

Derek was lucky that he had caught up with the school bus in time before it drove off with his nephew. Laura was quite amused that her son had been able to get that far without her younger brother noticing.

When Derek found Isaac in his trunk the next day he was far from amused.

* * *

Mac and Cheese Night was a sacred event, an event that if missed left nothing but complete chaos in its wake.

Stiles and Scott had started the weekly tradition in an attempt to help Erica settle into her new home. Lydia, who had not so casually strolled into their lives, had insisted that if she was going to be forced to eat the same thing once a week  _ she  _ would be the one to decide what it would be.

To their surprise she chose mac and cheese.

“What?” She asked, looking back and forth between Stiles and Scott’s confused faces. “Did you really think I would pick something that the kids wouldn’t like? I really don’t want to have to force food down their throats now do I?”

Though her words may not have sounded very loving, both boys knew that, not so deep down, Lydia loved the children very much, no matter how hard she tried to cover it up.

The first night had almost ended in disaster. With mac and cheese on the ceiling and everyone’s (except Isaac and his one year old glory) clothes ruined beyond compare, the night was only saved when Erica had started giggling madly, happily picking cheesy goodness out of Lydia’s hair and stuffing it in her mouth. Lydia, who had been fuming over her ruined outfit, had been the first to start laughing along with the toddler, scooping some mac and cheese off her shoulder and eating it as well.

Soon they were all happily eating their not quite sanitary meal with their fingers, Scott at one point even licking a long strip down Stiles’ face (an act that had only made the two small children laugh hysterically).

The second night went a little better, even if Isaac managed to smear cheese all over Erica’s face.

It didn’t take long before Mac and Cheese Night became a time where the small but dysfunctional family could remind themselves that they were just that- a family.

It wasn’t quite the same now that Lydia and Scott were gone.

* * *

“Date me.”

“Jesus Christ!” Stiles exclaimed, jumping at the sudden appearance of Derek behind him. “You almost gave me a heart attack, my god!”

Derek just smirked, walking around him to grab a box of pasta off the shelf. Stiles just stared at him, risking a glance down at the other man’s basket to see if he was buying anymore feminine products. To his disappointment it seemed that Derek was sticking to strictly edible purchases.

“So?” Derek questioned, raising an eyebrow questioningly (damn Stiles didn’t even know if that was a thing).

“Huh,” Stiles said dumbly, his mind still reeling from the fact that the two of them had run into each other yet again at the grocery store.

“Will you go on a date with me,” Derek asked, watching Stiles with dark eyes.

“Oh,” Stiles murmured not knowing what else to say.

“Oh?”

“I-“

“You told me that when we met again you would tell me yes or no.”

“Yes or no…”

“Will you or will you not go on a date with me,” Derek asked in mild frustration, finally looking away from Stiles and back to the aisle shelf.

Stiles just continued to stare at him. Derek continued to stare at the shelf. The old lady a few yards away continued to stare at them in amusement, not that either of them knew that.

“You don’t know me…” Stiles faded off, watching as Derek gripped his basket tighter.

“I would like to.”

“I-I’m not who you think I am,” Stiles replied quietly. 

“And what if you’re exactly who I think you are?” Derek asked, finally turning his head to look back at Stiles.

“I’d be worried to be honest,” He chuckled, watching as Derek started to relax his grip on the basket.

“Will you go on a date with me?” Derek asked again, his eyes pleading with Stiles’ own. “Please.”

Stiles was conflicted. On one hand he would love to go out with Derek. Even in the company of three children, Stiles found himself wishing for Scott and Lydia. Stiles was lonely, so very lonely, and Derek was offering something that he so desperately wanted. And for god’s sake, he was twenty-five for crying out loud, he wasn’t going to be young forever. But then he thought about his werelings back at the apartment. Thought about all the days and nights spent driving in an attempt to get as far away as possible from people who always caught up to them one way or another. Thought about giving his heart to someone only to have to leave it behind when their nightmares finally caught up with them.

“I can’t,” Stiles whispered, the words seeming to get stuck in his throat.

“Please,” Derek pushed, his voice laced with desperation. He reached out for Stiles but snatched his hand away when Stiles stepped back, refusing to look him in the eye.

“I’m sorry Derek.”

There was a moment of silence before Derek nodded once and turned around and walked away. Stiles continued to stare at the floor, still not noticing the old lady who had been staring at them earlier until she was right next to him.

“If I were you,” She started, her eyes staring at him with an expression he couldn’t quite pick out. “I would have given him a chance. You’re young dear, you’ve got nothing to lose.”

Giving Stiles a final pat on the shoulder she walked away, leaving an even more conflicted Stiles in her wake.

Stiles stared after her before quickly turning in the direction Derek had walked away. With a determination that only came through a decision he was refusing to think through he ran off towards where Derek had disappeared. When he turned the aisle corner, he was surprised to see that Derek had not gone far in the 2 minutes that had passed since Stiles’ rejection.

“Derek!” He yelled, watching in slight amusement as Derek snapped around so quickly that he almost knocked over the carefully stacked pyramid of apples next to him. A large smile spread across his face as Derek continued to sort of stumble around in an attempt to make himself look more impressive. The end result, to Stiles’ amusement, left him leaning dangerously close the pyramid of apples he had already almost knocked over.

“Do you like Mac and Cheese?”

Derek may or may not have knocked the pyramid of apples over in his surprise.

Stiles most definitely laughed his ass off in response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY FUCK IT DIDN'T TAKE ME A MONTH TO UPDATE SUPRISE HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!
> 
> anyway thank you all you are all awesome I love you all so much I want to hug you all and give you Mac and cheese. 
> 
> On another not I am proud to announce that a play I wrote is being produced on the 14th and that I will be posting the link for the video of the performance in the next chapter! 
> 
> Thank you all for reading and making my life so much brighter!!
> 
> Story Time (we’ll be doing this from this chapter on just fyi): I based both Erica and Isaac’s speech impediments off of my own as a child. I had to go through years of speech therapy and even now I still have trouble pronouncing many words.


	8. I Don't Know (where you are)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He didn’t know where he was, or even how long he’d been there. All he knew was that he had failed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess who's back????? (don't kill me!!!!) 
> 
> every one thank Zach for hitting me over the head and forcing me to write this chapter for you guys after six months of nothing....

Stiles was fucked.

Not literally, but certainly figuratively, and boy did he wish that for once in his life it was literal.

He had invited Derek over for dinner; the same Derek who, for whatever reason (one that Stiles still couldn’t quite understand), wanted to date him, even if that meant coming over to Stiles’ house to eat mac and cheese with his children.

None of this would be a problem if it wasn’t for the little fact that Derek  _ didn’t _ know that he was going to be eating dinner with his date’s children.

Stiles was fucked because he was bringing a man he had never actually dated home to meet his werewolf children, children that said man currently didn’t even know existed.

This was going to be a night to remember; that was for sure.

* * *

Derek was going on a date with his mate.

He still wasn’t quite sure what had changed Stiles’ mind in the end, or even why Stiles would ever have even considered him in the first place (it wasn’t that Derek didn’t know he was attractive, because  _ hello _ , but that didn’t change the fact that he had tackled Stiles when they had first met), but whatever it was that had brought his mate running to him he was incredibly grateful for.

There was only one problem in the grand scheme of things that had Derek just a little bit worried.

By little he meant on the verge of throwing himself through the grocery store’s front windows to get away from the inevitable rejection that would come when Stiles finally learned what he really was.

But for now he was just happy to get the chance to enjoy his mate’s presence, something that he was almost certain wouldn’t be here to stay.

This was going to be a night to remember; that was for sure.

* * *

The car ride to Stiles’ apartment was awkward to say the least.

They took Derek’s car, what with Stiles having walked to the store and the rain that had started to fall sometime after they had respectively entered the grocery store.

An awkward silence hung between the two men, leaving them both frantically trying to come up with something to say to the other.

“So…” Derek started, glancing over at Stiles from the corner of his eye. “What do you do?”

“I don’t have a job right now,” Stiles replied quickly, fidgeting in his seat.

“What’s your favorite color?” Derek questioned.

“You make brilliant small talk.” Stiles rolled his eyes, turning to Derek in amusement.

“It’s a valid question.” Derek argued, defending his choice of questions.

“Yet a slightly pointless one if I do say so myself.” Stiles pointed out, smirking as Derek struggled to come up with a comeback.

“Then what questions would you ask?” he huffed, watching as Stiles just shrugged his shoulders.

“I don’t know, something about family I guess?”

“Okay, do you have any family?”

“Everyone has family, Derek.” Stiles laughed.

“Fine then, do you have any siblings?”

“You could say that, I guess,” Stiles chuckled, looking over at Derek with a sad smile.

“Where are they?” Derek asked, watching in confusion as Stiles flinched, his eyes going wide in shock.

Stiles took a shaky breath in before turning slowly away from Derek and towards the window. He squeezed his eyes shut as he continued to control his breathing, completely unaware of Derek’s confusion and concern.

* * *

The first thing Scott realized when he came to was the putrid smell of rotting flesh. The smell of it sent his stomach rolling, vomiting what little was left in his stomach. His hands and feet were bound by wolfsbane rope, the material burning his skin with every move that he made. The ground he woke up on was cold and damp, chilling him to the very core.

He didn’t know where he was, or even how long he’d been there. All he knew was that he had failed.

He had failed to protect the child he had sworn to bring back to its family.

He had failed to return to his own family.

Now he was alone in the clutches of the very people who tortured and murdered his kind, people who had turned children into weapons and families into dust.

Tears began to slip down his face as he curled into himself, his eyes flashing gold in pain.

Scott was alone, and no one would ever find him.

Not even Stiles.

* * *

“Stiles?”

Derek watched in concern as Stiles finally turned away from the window, peering up at him with a forlorn expression.

“I don’t know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuses except for I'm a horrible person, so I'm sorry for that.
> 
> On another note this story now has over 1000 fucking subscribers and you guys have literally blown my mind with this like holy shit guys! I want to cry and scream and why do you even like this story???? I literally go back and read it and wonder because my spelling and grammar probs haven't improved since like kindergarten so I'm so sorry for that???? BUT THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO HAS STUCK WITH THIS STORY AND MY SHITTY PROCRASTINATING SELF YOU ARE ALL FUCKING SAINTS FOR BEING ABLE TO DEAL WITH ME SO I THANK YOU FOR THAT. I AM MAKING YOU ALL A PROMISE HERE AND NOW THAT I WILL FINISH THIS STORY!!! I PROMISE YOU ALL THAT IT WILL NOT BE LEFT UNFINISHED!!!!
> 
> I DON'T KNOW HOW MANY OF YOU ACTUALLY READ NOTES BUT YEAH HAVE A NICE DAY AND A NICE LIFE AND I WILL BE SEEING YOU SOON (UNLESS YOU DECIDE TO STOP READING WHICH WOULD MAKE ME SAD BUT I DON'T REALLY BLAME YOU SO I ALSO HOPE YOU ENJOY YOUR LIFE AND DAY BECAUSE EVERYONE DESERVES A NICE DAY)
> 
> THANK YOU I AM DONE KNOW YOU MAY ALL GO ON WITH YOUR LIVES I AM SORRY FOR TAKING UP SO MUCH OF YOUR TIME


	9. Surprises (and minor realizations)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles can’t help but fold in on himself ever so slightly, bringing his arms up to jazz hand nervously.
> 
> “Surprise?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHAT'S UP GUYS IT'S BEEN EXACTLY THREE YEARS HOW Y'ALL DOING????

To say that Stiles is nervous about introducing his werelings to his- whatever the hell Derek is- is an understatement. Quite honestly he’s terrified.

Stiles doesn’t _do_ this kind of thing. He doesn’t date, and he most certainly doesn’t go home with people, let alone bring people back home with him. Sure, he didn’t bring Derek home with him to get down and dirty, but he’s realizing now that Derek might not know that.

He’s also realizing that he has no idea how he’s supposed to subtly explain to a man he knows nothing about- who may very well think he’s getting laid tonight- that he’s actually been invited to, what can only be described as, a family dinner.

Basically, Stiles is fucked, and he really needs to learn to think things through better. Or maybe just learn to think to begin with. You’d have thought that maybe he’d have learned his lesson after his best friend got bitten by a god forsaken werewolf after Stiles had dragged his ass out into the middle of the woods in search of a dead body, but no, clearly he tabled the idea of thinking alongside his self preservation instincts and brain to mouth filter.

Not to mention he has absolutely no idea how his werelings are going to react to him bringing a stranger into their territory. Even with their currently dulled senses- thanks to the layers upon layers of magic woven into every thread of the bracelets he has them always wearing- they still act more wolf than child some days, and despite having lived in Beacon Hills for less than a month they’ve already solidly claimed their apartment as _theirs_. They can be viciously protective of what little they have that's consider theirs, and he’s worried that they’ll view Derek as a trespasser instead of a guest.  

It’s surprising actually, how quickly Beacon Hills had begun to feel like home to them all. Even without Scott and Lydia, the town just felt right somehow, and no matter how many times he tried to ignore it, he knew that it would break his heart when they were eventually forced to leave. Stiles didn’t even want to imagine how the kids were going to react, especially little Isaac who had found his first friend here. He isn’t looking forward to the waterworks when he was eventually forced to once again flee into the dead of night with his three werelings. It would be an honest to god miracle if Isaac didn’t attempt to put up a fight when the time finally comes.

They’re less than a minute out from the apartment, and Stiles’ panic is growing steadily by the second. Conversation had ended rather abruptly and awkwardly with the mention of Scott and the reminder that Stiles has received no word from him in nearly two months, and Stiles had had no idea how to steer it into safer territory. Derek, who had seemed to realize he had accidentally touched on something he probably shouldn’t have, had also remained silent, opting to instead stare straight ahead and grip the steering wheel a little too tightly. It was probably for the best as well, because it gave Stiles time to think about how he was going to broach the subject of him actually being a single father of three werelings to a man who had for some reason decided he was date worthy after jumping him in the condom aisle. God what even was his life anymore?

It’s only as they’re finally pulling up to Stiles’ still rather sketchy apartment complex that Stiles panic finally hits a crescendo.

“I have kids!” Stiles blurts out suddenly.

To Stiles’ credit, Derek slamming on the break doesn’t take him by complete surprise- though he can’t quite stop from yelping as he’s jerked forward in his seat. Derek whips around to stare at Stiles in unadulterated shock, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Stiles can’t help but fold in on himself ever so slightly, bringing his arms up to jazz hand nervously.

“Surprise?”

Derek continues to gape at him as if he’s just informed him that he’s actually the queen of England, but at least he doesn’t seem angry which Stiles counts as a win.

Finally, after what seems like a lifetime of awkward silence and uncomprehending stares, Derek closes his mouth with an audible click.

“You have… kids?” He asks as if he’s testing the words out like one might test milk to see if it’s gone bad or not.

“That’s why I didn’t want to date you y’know?” Stiles begins nervously, glancing at Derek before quickly turning to stare down at his hands which twist nervously together in his lap. “I mean- other than the whole not knowing you and us being strangers, and you jumping me in the condom aisle- but point is I have kids! Three to be precise actually, and oh god I invited you to eat dinner with my children, and you didn’t know and I knew you didn’t know, but I just kinda panicked and invited you anyway and-”

Stiles is cut off abruptly when Derek’s hand suddenly folds over his own. When he looks up Derek is gazing deeply at him, in a manner that shouldn’t be as reassuring as it feels considering how little they know of each other.

“Stiles it’s okay. You have kids. Plenty of people have kids.” Derek says as if it’s completely reasonable that his date had completely forgone informing him that they had children moments before walking in the door to face down said children he had previously been completely unaware of. Wow does Stiles feel like a dick.

“I- Okay?” Stiles isn’t really sure what he’s supposed to say in response to Derek seemingly being completely chill with him being a parent. He’s either a godsend or really _really_ wants to get into Stiles’ pants. He’s not really sure whether he cares either way at the moment.

Derek smiles at him, and it’s a small smile, but it’s filled with a reassurance and unwavering acceptance that makes Stiles heart lurch unexpectedly in his chest.

“Okay,” Derek murmurs, giving Stiles hand a small squeeze. “You ready to introduce me to your unprepared children?”

Stiles can’t help the bubble of laughter that bursts it’s what through his chest, or the way his heart once again lurches when Derek smile widens in response.

 _Don't get attached,_ he tries to tell himself, wants to scream it really. _This will only end in heartbreak_.

But it’s hard not to want Derek to continue to look at him like he is now- as if somehow Stiles is everything good in this world. It’s hard, and with a sinking feeling he realizes he’s set himself up for inevitable heartbreak.

But for now he laughs, and clutches Derek’s hand tighter in his own, trying to make up for when he’ll eventually be forced to let go forever.

“Ready when you are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's been exactly three years oops.  
> Anyway I'm still planning on finishing this, and will also be going back and doing some editing. I won't add any information to earlier chapters that will leave people confused if they don't reread it once it's edited, but i will be doing some rewriting and editing to certain parts.

**Author's Note:**

> (Character Ages will be added when they enter the Story)  
> Talia - 61  
> Laura - 32  
> Kate - 30  
> Derek - 28  
> Cora - 26  
> Stiles - 25  
> Scott - 25  
> Lydia - 26  
> Allison - 26  
> Boyd - 8  
> Erica - 6  
> Isaac - 5  
> Danny - 5


End file.
